The Night the Boy Lived
by Lady Rebecca
Summary: A oneshot about the night Voldemort attacked the Potters. Starts from the time Hagrid shows up. Not meant to be great art, was written for my own satisfaction and fun.


Author's Note: Not a ton of dialogue, I know. Sorry if it's not terribly exciting and if it's been done before, I wrote it mostly to satisfy my curiosity about what the event must have been like, and also for some practice in writing. I just thought I'd post it for the heck of it. If you like it, tell me what you liked, and if you hate it, please tell me why.

Peace.

THE NIGHT THE BOY LIVED

by: Lady Rebecca

Rubeus Hagrid felt his feet once again hit solid ground as the uneasy feelings of traveling via Portkey faded. He glanced down at his left hand and realized that he was still holding the rusty can-opener. Dropping it unconcernedly, Hagrid slowly raised his eyes so that he was gazing straight ahead. He blinked once or twice in an attempt to clear his vision, in an attempt to erase the scene before him.

In between numbers twelve and fourteen law the chaotic piles of brick, splintered wood, and other rubble that were all that remained of Thirteen, Godric's Hollow.

Hagrid felt a lump in his throat as he walked from the middle of the street to where the front door should have been. He picked his way carefully through the devastation. A tear finally fell down his cheek as he passed the broken shards of a picture frame which he knew had once displayed a photo of Lily and James' wedding day. The picture itself was gone; it must have been incinerated during whatever event had caused this carnage.

Dumbledore had told Hagrid to go and find the Potter's son, Harry, and bring him quickly, safely, and discreetly to a location in Little Whinging where he would be left to live with family. Looking at the mess surrounding him, Hagrid had serious doubts that a tiny baby could have lived through such an ordeal, but just then he heard a small wail coming from the back left corner of the lot.

Hagrid's long strides brought him swiftly to the place. His eyes widened in amazement and his mouth dropped with shock. At his feet lay a sobbing toddler with messy black hair and bright green eyes that were shining with tears. Considering everything, Harry looked fine, his only visible injury being a lightening-shaped cut across his little forehead. Hagrid bent, picked him up, and quieted him. Caressing the wound, Hagrid was filled with a myriad of emotions, everything from wonder and confusion to relief that at least one Potter had survived.

As he stood there among the piles, the sudden roar of something very close made Hagrid start so badly that he nearly dropped Harry. He whipped around to face the street, and saw a large motorbike come to rest beside the can-opener that still sat in the middle of the road.

Sirius Black stepped quickly off his bike and jogged towards the ruins of Number Thirteen. He slowed when he reached the sidewalk, and stopped after his first steps into the madness. The young man's dark eyes were filled with disbelieving tears that prevented him from seeing much, including Hagrid holding his best friend's son.

"Oh, damn… no…" he whispered almost inaudibly. "Oh, hell…" Sirius fell to his knees and bowed his head. Dry sobs racked his body. In front of him was the cracked picture frame that Hagrid had noticed. Sirius picked it up, remembering how Mrs. Evans had given it to James and Lily as part of their wedding present. A sudden spasm of anger and intense regret went through him, and he hurled the once-beautiful gift away from him with all his might before once again sobbing into his hands.

Hagrid watched Sirius for a moment or two, quite unsure of what to do or say. Finally, he took a step forward and said simply, "Sirius…"

Sirius' head snapped up at the unexpected voice. He was ready for a fight, _willing _for a fight… Anything that might distract him from _this_. But Sirius quickly recognized his comrade from the Order, and was at once filled with confusion. "Hagrid? What are you doing here? It's too late… it all failed… it happened anyway…"

The poor wizard seemed to be speaking to himself. Hagrid didn't understand what Sirius was talking about, but he was filled with compassion and pity for this man who had just suffered such a horrible loss.

Hagrid, still holding Harry, walked over to Sirius and put his frying-pan sized hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Yeh know, 's alrigh' really. They don' have ter live in fear no more, they're done with this bloody war… An' yeh know they died fightin'. James woulda wanted to go down fightin'…" Hagrid trailed off, having no idea of what to say next.

Sirius took a deep, shaky breath and said, "James didn't want to go at all."

Hagrid thought for a moment and said quietly, "Nah, I don' reckon he did."

"But… thank you, Hagrid." Slowly, Sirius stood up and saw the entire scene clearly for the first time. When his eyes fell upon a tangle of robes that he knew to be James' body, he quickly averted them, only to have them land on a flash of bright red hair that he knew to be Lily's body. Sirius turned his back to the rubble, so as to give himself more time before he had to face the stark reality before him. He ended up facing Hagrid, and for the first time, Sirius noticed the bundle in his friend's arms.

"That's not… it can't be."

"It's Harry fer sure. 'S beyond me how he coulda lived, but Dumbledore seemed ter know he had, an' he told me ter come here an' get the poor thing."

Hope and relief filled Sirius for the first time that night. He reached out a hand and stroked the baby boy's head gently. Harry had lived! But how? Well, that could be figured out later, all that mattered now was that James' son was alive. Sirius felt like it was an opportunity to make amends with his best friend for allowing Voldemort to find their where-abouts. He would raise Harry and take care of him just as James would have…

"Give Harry to me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him. It's what Lily and James would have wanted."

Hagrid hesitated. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but Dumbledore hisself told me ter come pick up Harry, an' then ter bring him ter his aunt an' uncle's place."

Sirius was stunned. "You're joking… They're muggles! James Potter's son go live with _muggles_? You must be mad."

"Dumbledore mus' have a reason--"

"Damn Dumbledore's reasons, I'm Harry's rightful guardian!"

"I won' disobey Dumbledore!" said Hagrid, now very angry. "Find him an' take it up with him, but righ' now, Harry _has_ ter come with me. Sirius, yeh know Dumbledore wouldn' do somethin' foolish with the son of the Potters. He. Has. Reasons."

Sirius opened his mouth to argue once more, but realized that Hagrid's words held truth. Dumbledore would be sure that Harry was safe. Besides, a burning passion for vengeance was slowly creeping through Sirius' blood. He wanted to be sure that the people responsible for the deaths of Lily and James paid dearly, and he couldn't do that if he had to be responsible for Harry.

Sirius sighed in surrender, and pressed his palms into his eyes with weariness. "You're right, Hagrid. I apologize. Take my motorbike to get Harry there quicker. It's probably safer, too, than whatever you had planned… Go on, take it. I won't need it anymore."

It crossed Hagrid's mind that it was extremely strange that Sirius would be giving away the vehicle that he adored so much. _Probably he ain' thinkin' straight 'cause of shock… I'll come back after I drop off Harry, an' return it ter him. He don' realize what he's a-sayin' now, but he'll miss that darned contraption later…_

"Thanks, Sirius… an' it'll all be okay in the end. It'll all be okay."

Hagrid sniffed loudly, and Sirius just nodded. Hagrid turned, strode over to the motorbike, and started the ignition. After a last look at the sight which had once been the hiding place of Lily and James Potter, he roared down the road, and the end of the street the magical vehicle lifted into the sky where it was almost immediately lost among the thick dark clouds.

Sirius gulped at the cold night air, and once again faced the carnage. He knew he couldn't just leave the bodies of his dearest friends in the middle of this wreck to decay. With tears and curses of anger and remorse, the grieving wizard used magic to clear the rubble from a small area of the lot, and then to create a grave approximately seven feet in depth and length, and about five feet in width.

Turning first to James' corpse, Sirius muttered, "_Mobilicorpus_," and maneuvered the body gently into the grave. When he turned to Lily's body, he had to stop for a moment, for his voice was too shaky to recite the incantation. When he could finally say it, he placed Lily beside James so that they were facing each other, lying on their sides. With a wave of Sirius' wand dirt flew in, surrounding them to fill up and seal the grave. And with that, Lily and James Potter were laid to rest.

Standing at the foot of the grave, Sirius closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they seemed to be full of fire instead of their usual endless darkness. "Here I come, Peter… ready or not." Accompanied by a loud _crack_, Sirius Black turned on his heel and disapparated into the night, the night which so many other people were celebrating, but which had caused him the worst pain he had ever felt.


End file.
